We’ve had some fascinating discussions this week on a variety of themes, most recently the fans’ role in lifting the team over the final hurdle to greatness and the story of our outgoing players in the transfer market. The latter got me thinking, not about those who have gone to pastures new but rather those who have joined us.

The whole vexatious topic of transfers can become a little toxic. I have had to unfollow people on Twitter in January just because they insist on babbling with incoherent breathless prose day after day about this rumour, that target, this price or that wage demand. Was it like this before the window? I wonder if it isn’t more to do with the internet, social networks and blogs and the utter desperation of Sky, Talkspite and the back page print journos to remain relevant in a swiftly changing media environment rather than the effect of the dreaded window itself.

My thoughts are fairly well known and usually proved wrong. I don’t like it when new players come in. It unsettles me, takes me too long to think of them as our own and I believe unsettles the squad and takes too long for new partnerships to become effective on the pitch. It was a whole season before I could really see Sol Campbell as one of our own and not some mercenary Spud in an Arsenal shirt. I cannot begin to tell you how bewildered I was when Bruce Rioch signed the Ice Man for a ridiculously high £7.5 million. It just wasn’t the Arsenal way. International superstars who would in Rioch’s words “..clearly indicate our ambition, intention and determination to compete with any club for the very best players.” were not what we were used to and I, foolish and, let’s not shy from the truth, weird as I was, didn’t like it.

The only mitigation I can offer for my seemingly bizarre antipathy to new arrivals is the close season of 2003. A legend was leaving us. David Seaman, who pulled off what Peter Schmeichel famously dubbed “the best save I’ve ever seen” to see us through to the FA Cup final where he would lift the jug eared old trophy, was retiring. Arsene Wenger had inherited the famous defence and there were some who had wondered what he would do when their creaking old legs and arms were no longer up to the task. Apart from Martin Keown, David Seaman was the last of that exulted old guard and he needed replacing. Who did Le Prof bring in to replace him? An erratic German keeper with a reputation for unreliability, unpredictability and downright madness. He’d failed at A.C. Milan and had just spent an entirely unhappy final season with Dortmund where (according to Wiki) he “currently still holds the record for most red cards for any player of Borussia Dortmund”.
Apart from a couple of unknown Swiss centre backs, some kid on a free from Barca and a young French left back that crazy keeper represented our only big business in the transfer market. My mitigation for not liking too much transfer activity and simultaneously for trusting Arsene Wenger’s judgement over my own is the simple fact that Mad Jens completely failed to play on the losing side in any Premiership match in the following season. We had our most successful ever time at the top after an extremely quiet summer of transfers.

Look, I’m laying all my cards on the table like this because I want you to understand the pathological depths of my transfer psychosis. If anyone can be upset at Dennis Bergkamp coming to play for their club then they need help, right?

Well you’ll be happy to know that help has arrived. A strange thing has been happening this season. I have of course been on edge over all the new faces joining us, trying to imagine them as our own when I’m not even sure how to pronounce their surnames is hard for me. Santi is unquestionably an extraordinary footballer but I don’t know him quite well enough yet. Next year it’ll be fine. I’m warming to Lukas, he works so hard and has a left foot that Thor could use if he ever lost his favourite tool, while Nacho is a surreal creature who just suddenly materialised at left back out of nowhere. But the something I referred to just back there, the something that has happened to me started 88 minutes into our match against The Orcs at the Brittania on August 26th 2012. With the score at nil nil and chances hard to come by, tenacious work on the corner of our box from Alex Oxelaide-Chamberlain and a quick pass forward set our new and largely unknown centre forward loping down the left wing in pursuit. The ever willing Aaron Ramsay was charging up the, middle in support and with the right weight on the pass would have been in a very strong scoring position. But then it happened. Out of absolutely nowhere and without bothering to so much as take a touch never mind think about a pass, Olivier Giroud, still some thirty yards from goal and near the touchline unleashed a terrifying dipping shot which would have snapped the Mordor keeper in half if it had hit him. OK so the shot missed the target by a fraction, Arsene got off the bench and signalled his displeasure, the commentators pointed out how well placed Ramsay was and we came home with a well earned point but no more.

But I was captivated by that moment. The audacity, the confidence, the technique. Name three other attributes you want more in your centre forward. Go on. Name them. As it turned out that wouldn’t be the first time Olivier (or Larry as he should surely be known) missed by a scintilla or fluffed his lines in front of goal and the anti Arsenal press had their all too predictable field day making negative comparisons with his predecessor and labelling him a flop and generally trying to turn us against the new boy and thus rob him of our vocal or written support. I think his Arsenal career would have started very differently and brought many more if different pressures had that goal gone in. I think he’d have settled more quickly and people would have forgiven him for not being Thierry/Denis/Persie all rolled into one.

But of course the goals started to come. He opened his account against Coventry in the widdley diddley cup and gave us this fantastic quote “This goal has taken the pressure off me. It’s done, I have my first goal. But it has to be the start of a beautiful adventure.” And I started to love him just a little bit. “But it has to be the start of a beautiful adventure.” Perfect. I’ve been accused of being a bit of a romantic where football is concerned and maybe that is true but like Larry I believe a player’s career and relationship with us should be just that. Wasn’t Thierry’s Arsenal career a beautiful adventure? How else would you describe it? I like that bit of poetry in Giroud’s make up. It complements his physical prowess rather neatly.

After scoring in the prem in October he put away four in November. The Fulham game was a high water mark in his burgeoning Arsenal career, not just the goals but his all round play started making us sit up and take notice, and it is his assists as much as his goals that excites me. As I suggested earlier it takes time for partnerships to form and for players to get to know each other. We have seen Olivier play deft passes for others to run on to but more than that we’ve seen him play mind bogglingly accurate audacious flicks over defenders and into the path of the on-running Arsenal player. It takes time for those around him to even realise those passes are possible never mind likely to come. It takes a while for the all round aspect of his game to be picked up on by his team mates. I’ve noticed lately Theo and Lukas seem more aware of where to be when he goes up for a header and to keep running when he receives the ball, back to goal, expecting the pass to come. I think he’ll score plenty for us. But more than that I think Theo and Lukas will score more because of him.

I also have to confess that for the first time ever I have taken to a bought in transfer window player. A man who should have taken a season to win me round had me in that one sparkling moment of near brilliance back in August. There’s just something very Arsenal about him.

Post by Varun Shukla (@wengerarmy)

While browsing through the new Arsenal website (which is an absolute corker by the way) I stumbled upon Lee Dixon’s interview. He talked about how he was scouted, approached and signed by Arsenal and his feelings during the entire process. An extract here:

“I walked through the marble halls and I just went to myself, ‘whatever happens today, I am not leaving here until I sign’, because the place smelled of football.”

The more Sherlock Holmesian of people will stop me right now with an “Elementary, my dear author” comment here and deduce where I’m going with this, but for the more mortal of us, read on.

Every Gooner remembers the summer transfer window and one Dutch Skunk in particular. There’s no need to go into the details, I’m sure- he is where he wanted to be and no one this side cares. He however can’t stop talking about us. When he’s not busy getting impregnated by little boys or spending time in sweet shops, he talks about how he’s ‘‘seeing things he’s seen before only with Henry and Bergkamp’’ and about how his current employers ‘breathe football’.

What’s the difference between Lee Dixon and United’s number 20? Aside from the fact that one is an Arsenal legend and the other would give Brutus a run for his money in the Best Betrayal of All Time Award, it’s in what they said about their respective clubs. On the face of it both statements seem to be similar (though Lee has better grammar). There’s a huge difference though – Lee was bowled over by the sheer history of the Club, the way one might feel while visiting Buckingham Palace. The other guy’s statement was just a PR exercise to enhance his image.

And that is the difference between a legend and a good footballer. Players of the past – Dixon, Adams, Bergkamp, Seaman, Rocastle etc respected the Club as a historical institution. They felt a sense of responsibility and belonging – it was almost as if they were supporters themselves. Henry is a legend not because he scored the most goals or because he won with us. It is this statement which says it all “You need big shoulders to play for Arsenal – the cannon is heavy.” The same can be said about Gerrard, Pirlo and Antonio di Natale for their respective clubs. They believed.

Most modern players however, are more individualistic. These days, it is Club A for development, Club B for winning stuff and Club C for a comfortable retirement and so on. They plan every stage like a corporate career and that somehow just doesn’t go with the spirit of football. A football player is a role model to many and for me; he is complete if he is a good person as well. This is one of the things which make me proud to say that I am a Gooner – by and large; we’ve always had players who are great humans as well as footballers.

Much has been said about the ‘family spirit’ at Arsenal. We have top class facilities, one of the best footballing arenas in the world and a visionary manager who has always cared about his players. On more than one occasion, we’ve heard from ex and current players about how great it feels in the dressing room, how Arsene is like a ‘second father’ and how life is generally top class. Even the new signings admit that their national compatriots were a big factor in convincing them to sign (Mertesacker for Podolski and Cazorla for Nacho to name just two). Which makes it all the more baffling when players leave for no apparent reason.

A big part of the reason for our trophyless run (aside from financial restrictions, oil money and even some refereeing ‘errors’) is the outflow of players. Every season since 05-06, the manager has had to contend with key players leaving which results in an overhaul of strategy leading to rebuilding of the team and a loss of ‘chemistry’ and stability.
A chronological list here would be helpful:
Ashley Cole
Hleb
Flamini
Adebayor
Nasri
Fabregas
Clichy
Song
 van Persie

You’ll notice that I omitted players such as Henry, Ljungberg, Gallas, Toure, Lehmann etc. Here I’ve considered only the players who could have contributed significantly to the team by staying. The list also has some of the biggest ‘traitors’ in AFC history (except Clichy maybe). This, however, is exactly my point.

Why, when everything is so brilliant at our club, do players leave? Out of all of these players, Cole was perhaps the only one who admitted outright that he wanted more money than we could offer. The rest had varying degrees of ‘trophy sickness’. And more money of course. The thing that hurts is the way in which the Club is made a scapegoat and the way in which it becomes widely accepted opinion.

Particularly in Persie’s case, he released a statement which effectively disrespected the Club and said ‘they lack ambition’. What does ambition mean? How does signing 5 players (some of whom are targeted by teams fighting to avoid the drop) show that we’re serious about winning the title?  Is the board, Dick Law, Wenger or Gazidis out there playing on the pitch? No. The best the Club can do is provide the best possible environment for the players to excel. It is the players who need to show that they want to win, not the Club.

Don’t get me wrong here; I’m not saying the players don’t make any effort. Just that blaming the Club for what are essentially their mistakes is wrong. An open net, just the finish required. A goal takes us through to the next stage, and it is shot wide. Instead of working harder and improving that, player takes the easiest option to move in transfer window and accuse us of lack of ‘ambition’. It’s a similar thing with defenders. Let in a goal, and yet they say that Wenger didn’t handle the ball better.

Coming back to Persie. After nearly 6 seasons at the treatment table, he showed the form of his life. We finished 3^rd, and were raring to go in the next season. He knows that he could have helped us do better by staying – repaying the faith shown, but he chose to leave. And before that, he even took the pains to undermine the club that made him. Wasn’t it his attempted chip against AC Milan which was saved and cost us progression in the CL? No, that was somehow Wenger’s fault.

Fabregas, beloved captain. Got homesick apparently and went on strike to force a move. He knew that the team was built around him – the boss must have talked to him about it, about the difficulties we’d face in rebuilding – but no, he went home to Barcelona who willingly let go of him at the age of 16.

Maybe the agents are to blame. They make the players believe that they are the best thing to happen to the human race since the wheel, talk to their ego and tell them the Arsenal isn’t good enough. Of course, the agents want their commission too. What it all results in is instability in the team, and still the great man finds the resources to qualify for CL each year (for well over a decade running now). And finish above Spurs for good measure.

It’s not as if all players have had successful careers afterwards. Barring Cole, no one has achieved much. Nasri was on the bench for City’s triumph, he doesn’t count. Hleb and Flamini, Adebayor have all come out to admit that they should never have left Arsenal, Fabregas only played in the final of Spanish equivalent of Community Shield in his first season, Song is miserable at Barcelona.

What they fail to realize is as a bunch, staying together, they could have achieved something much much greater than they will ever do with other clubs. And that is what is good about the current team. No exit in sight (only Sagna’s contract situation left), everyone has ages left on their contracts, they all want to win something NOW. And God damn, we will.

This is the inaugural Bradyesque7 weekly Arsenal round-up. The only place to get your Arsenal both rounded and upped.

First up is the arrival of Nacho Monreal on Sky Sports Deadline Day. Monreal was destined to be a professional footballer. His father, a huge supporter of their hometown club, in Spain, is believed to have pleaded with his wife to allow him to call their son Nacho which is, of course, the Spanish word for match.

The fees paid for players such as Monreal are rarely confirmed by the club but, if reports are to be believed, we paid every figure between eight and twelve million for Nacho and almost certainly a little more and a bit less for Olivier Giroud in the summer.

Strikers and defensive midfielders may have been on the top of everyone’s wish list, but the second most important day of the football calendar came and went with only one player arriving.

HRH Lord David Beckham trained for a day.  Arsene Wenger joked that one day in training with Arsenal was enough for Beckham to regain fitness and be snapped up by PSG.  The medical team are said to be having it engraved onto a plaque.

We drew 2-2 with Liverpool this week in a belter of a game. There were thrills and spills and there were defensive howlers, which are spills. We went two goals down and the defending was pretty, pretty poor. Brazilian party animal, Andre Santos, was at fault for both goals. In possession, for both halves, Arsenal were terrific. Some might say the best football we’ve played all year. Other might say that trying to make a big statement because it’s the INAUGURAL BRADYESQUE7 WEEKLY ROUND-UP is pathetic.

Giroud’s fantastic debut season shows no sign of relenting as he continued his scoring run this week. Potency which can only be rivaled by Giroud himself, but in smaller, greener shorts.

Steve Bould may have fixed our problems at the beginning of the season but we’re conceding again. Some of the goals probably were preventable and we possibly could have gone on to win more points. As far as I can see, the problems seem to stem from two issues; tactical errors and individual mistakes. However, it can’t be ignored that we have been unfortunate from time to time too.  Pinpointing that particular problem has probably been your highlight so far and you’re welcome to that.

The weekend brought a return to the bygone days of ‘1-0 to the Arsenal’ as Stoke City visited the Grove.  Several impressive saves from Begovic kept the scores level for 78 minutes and proved what we’re all thinking; They do have six fingers!!! Santi Cazrorla and Lukas Podolski were introduced and the game was up for the tiring, Cleetuses.  Podolski aimed his free-kick off the knee of a Stokel and cleverly wrong-footed the digitally enhanced Begovic.  The game was over, the war was won and the sheet was clean. We got our Arsenal back???

And finally, Liam Brady has agreed to become Head of Youth Development at Juventus in 2014.  Brady has given over twenty years service to the Gunners and is probably going to remain involved with the club.  Arsenal are believed to have begun the search for Brady’s successor.  Some new guy will be tasked with “building on what Liam and his team have created”.  Good luck with that dude.

Regardless of what you may think, that is everything that happened in the last few days.

Thank you for reading.

Our very own Arsenal Andrew looks to the future

Normally I’d hesitate to write at any length about a Reserves’ match, regardless of the branding, be it U21’s, U18s’s or this new-fangled Next Generation business we’ve been keeping half an eye on. And certainly, as I drove my post-pneumonic self to Barnet’s bizarre mountain slope of a pitch on Tuesday night I entertained notions of a quick in and out and home in time to catch my favourite radio show of the week – Somer Valley’s Stew Black and the Slow & Dirty Train – not least thanks to the early 7pm kick off time.

What transpired was something very different.

As an FA Cup match, we were primed – braced even – for a game that had to be settled on the evening via the unwelcome mechanisms of extra time and penalties. Heaven forbid it went that far as the weather turned treacherous and an ugly storm blew in.

It had been warm in London on Tuesday – equivalent to a cool summer’s evening. The storm, albeit free of lightning and thunder, was the likely consequence of a temperature swing of 15 degrees from just a few days earlier when snow and ice had gripped the capital. Barnet’s old-school stadium is a remarkable, wonderful place. At no other ground in quite the same way do you feel transported back to the game ‘experience’ as it must have been known to our fathers and grandfathers and their families.

Spectators are placed pretty much level with the pitch and close to the touchline – so close you feel you can almost reach out and touch history itself.

Unfortunately, the finances of the club don’t extend too far these day, if they ever did, and the absence of a big screen forces the fan to follow the game rather than muck about with phones and Twitter. It is in fact the footballing equivalent of watching a film with subtitles; one blink and you risk missing the bit upon which the whole event turns. If you could video spectators watching the game at Barnet and compare with one taken at a game ‘blessed’ with a screen, you could be forgiven for assuming two different sports were being played out, such are the differences in the levels of concentration required.

The only real downside to Underhill’s ‘missing’ screen is that without replays it’s much harder for one not intimately familiar with both teams’ players to write a bona fide match report. So this isn’t one.

But it IS, however, a short acknowledgement from this reluctant weather-cowed spectator that what came to pass in the little publicised U18 FA Cup tie between Arsenal and Fulham, was one of the toughest games I’ve ever seen played. Conducted at blistering pace with breathtaking commitment, skill  and sheer raw courage by the lads of both sides, it was a match the likes of which I’d be surprised to see again.

The weather was such that, when the ball was kicked into it by despairing goalkeepers from one end in particular, it frequently barely reached halfway, sometimes got picked up by the breeze, examined and sent back towards the kicker in a gravity defying route dictated by a malevolent gale-force wind that clearly had other, more mischievous, ideas.

A breeze this most certainly was not.

And it DID go to extra time in the end.

In the event, two evenly matched sides more or less blew themselves out as the gale subsided close to the two hour mark. An early goal from Arsenal’s Anthony Jeffrey (“AJ!”) was cancelled out by one from Fulham’s Tankovic. That there were three foul throw-ins tell you something about the conditions as the oily ball was blown from the grip of boys, playing like men – nay warriors – and against the weather, as much as each other. I’ve never seen so many go down with cramp as tackles turned into car crashes and the only things missing from this battling vista was, thankfully, any blood or actual thunder.

That Arsenal eventually ran out worthy 2-1 winners was in no small measure thanks to the second-half arrival, following the substitution of star player Serge Gnabry, of the immaculate and cool-headed Austin Lipman.

Things always seem to happen to me at Barnet.  Magical, wonderful things.

On my birthday last summer, at this same stadium I found myself sat a dozen seats from Arsene Wenger. No fuss, no security (I’d left my people outside the ground), and with just the presence of Ivan Gazidis by Arsene’s side – I took a picture that can still be seen today on my Twitter page for anyone caring to look; he’d just smiled at my delighted better half as I fumbled for my phone and its camera to record the moment. You can clearly see how thrilled Arsene looks.

Last night I was sat next to a gentleman who texted someone called Austin halfway through the first half. Unusual name that, Austin. He was arranging to meet ‘Austin’ by the substitutes bench at half time, writing a message using enlarged typography intended for those with poor vision. I don’t normally read other people’s text messages but the seats are very close together at Underhill. No, really, they are. Honestly, I don’t.

A few weeks earlier by chance at Barnet during a similar game I’d sat next to the impossibly young looking mother of an Arsenal Under 18’s player – a substitute who didn’t actually get onto the pitch – the delightful and charming Mrs Lipman. Last night by remarkable coincidence in a crowd of several hundred I’d managed inadvertently to sit myself down on a seat close to the halfway line, next to Mrs Lipman’s Dad – Austin’s Grandfather.

From the scale of this coincidence alone, we can see that this lad Austin is destined for great things. Very great things.

Sadly his mum, who was at that point, according to her dad recovering from ‘flu, wasn’t there to see her boy, at the age of 17 years and two months, as he hit a brilliant winner for his side at the end of this toughest of games.  She got an excited call from Dad though, when it happened. No, I didn’t listen in.

But her young Austin, with the club, incredibly, since the age of six, was very much the hero of the (2) hour(s).

I wasn’t going to write about any of this, what with the next evening’s big game ahead against Liverpool, we surely would have much bigger fish to fry, wrap and drown in salt and vinegar.

But an hour after the game ended, a photo started to be tweeted and re-tweeted depicting the celebrations of the players immediately following Austin’s Great Strike. It’s that rarest of rare things, a picture that somehow tells a whole story.

This picture is so good, so special, that had I taken it I’d have given it a name all of it’s own.

Joy.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/35115236@N03/8427452323/

Taken by Arsenal’s brilliant club photographer, David Price.

Austin Lipman’s in there somewhere, I’m told. But in the foreground is another player who has to be one of the brightest young prospects for right back since, ooh, well, Carl Jenkinson.

Pacy, VERY pacy, skilful and fearless, repeated checks on the line up sheet confirmed he definitely is a right sided defender though he played more like an out and out winger.

17 year old Hector Bellerin came Arsenal’s way when Cesc went the other two years back in a largely unnoticed (by me) swap deal with Barcelona. His stunning talent made him, on Tuesday night, this observer’s Man of the Match. He’s also my tip for the role of Next Big Young Arsenal Star – ahead, even, of the always impressive Serge Gnabry and Thomas Eisfeld, both huge prospects themselves. He’s that good. His unusual first name reminded me of my reaction upon hearing Robin van Persie’s for the first time and I’ve little doubt he has the potential to make waves of a similarly exciting nature as Robin did, at least before all that transfer trouble blew up last summer …

At the end of the evening and as I battled with the storm’s remnants back to my car, I marveled at how much the cost of the £3 entry fee had given me.

For sure, the game against Liverpool was more ‘important’. But at that moment I doubted whether I could possibly feel quite as connected to the game, the players or the other spectators as I did that evening.

Joy, indeed.

Guest Post by @GBVishJourno

Have you sat down to watch the Africa Cup of Nations this year? No, not just sit in front of a computer and spool through YouTube clips but actually turn on the television and watch ninety minutes of African football.

Well I have, but you don’t need to watch the tournament to know that Gervinho has scored two magnificent goals for Cote d’Ivoire in the Group Stages: one a late winner to seal three points in his side’s opener against Togo, the other a lovely give-and-go between himself and Lacina Traore to open the scoring against Tunisia.

Both goals were expertly taken, beautifully crafted and probably the most important goals of the two games the Ivorians have so far played at the time of writing. A late, late winner always bursts the bubble of pressure that encapsulates players and an opening goal gives a team both comfort on and off the ball.

But why has he scored such magnificent goals for his national team? Wearing an orange shirt is no indication to that. Representing your country does not guarantee you a better performance. It is because the fans are behind him. The nation as a whole wants him to play and therefore support him unconditionally.

But what about those at Arsenal? Can we honestly say we are always one hundred percent behind Gervais Yao Kouassi when he is in the scarlet and white of the Gunners? No. We can’t.

Or at least some of us can’t.

But it is not just Gervinho but a raft of other players who have been booed by some of the most fickle fans in the world of football – in my opinion – if not the most fickle. I can understand if a player doesn’t give it his all in a game and then receives stick for it, such as Andrei Arshavin failing to track back for the Gunners.

I happened to witness one such incident at the City of Manchester Stadium (it was still called that back then) when we spanked Roberto Mancini’s men 3-0. Dedryck Boyata had been sent off inside five minutes and Nasri, Song and Bendtner scored our goals.

Lukas Fabianski was in goal and I was in the first row behind the goalmouth. Throughout the game, the away fans continued to cheer him on. In front of me was not Lukas ‘Flappyhandski’, but an international goalkeeper who pulled off world-class saves time and time again.

My point is, certain sections of fans need to get behind players when they fail to deliver. They don’t just need our roaring adulation and rapturous applause when they are banging in the goals week in week out or effortlessly breaking up play at the other end of the pitch.

They need our support and our backing even more when they fail to deliver. When they are unable to find the back of the net or hold our rearguard successfully.

Unfortunately, the human mind tends to focus more on the negative than the positive side of things. Over time, this can take its toll on even the most resilient of individuals.

Marouane Chamakh was being praised to high heaven when he was leading the line for Arsenal, scoring at will and assisting freely. Much was made about how he offered us a Plan B and was an absolute steal since he had joined us for free. His name echoed throughout the Emirates when he scored those ten goals in the first half of 2010.

But less than six months later, the same group of fans called him horrible! How conveniently they forgot that he had barely played in those six months (or in the next season either). Suddenly, the striker who had earned us a Champions League place and a berth in the Carling Cup final was being derided.

Awful, they called the Moroccan. He was dead-wood, a useless player who didn’t deserve to pull on the Arsenal shirt. How many times had he played since the return of Robin van Persie? He’s scored four goals in that time, a decent return given the rarity of his appearances.

And what of little Andrei, who owned Anfield with those four goals and orchestrated some of the most crucial strikes for Arsenal Football Club. What about the equaliser against Everton, the opener against Aston Villa, the winner against Liverpool on his return to Anfield. The assists he so unselfishly contributed time and time again. He was lazy, they said. He refused to track back, they said.

He was played out of position, they never said. He was no longer the fulcrum of a team, they never said. The meerkat was ageing, they never said. He offered to play alone up front when no one else was available, they never said.

Arshavin dragged us to the Champions League places during the 2008-09 season, after we had lost Alexander Hleb, Mathieu Flamini and Gilberto Silva the previous season. Tomas Rosicky had been on the sidelines for more than a year then.

Sebastien Squillaci has also been barracked in the past. Answer me this, if you will. How many of the mistakes he actually made were actually his fault? Was the one against West Bromwich Albion where Manuel Almunia came galumphing forward his fault? Was the header which he directed away from his goal which unfortunately fell to Steven Sidwell his fault?

Yes, he did get sent off against Huddersfield Town and put through his own net at Wigan, but that can happen to any defender. He might not have adapted to the best of his ability to the premiership and reproduced the displays in La Liga and Ligue 1 that put him on our radar in the first place, but does that warrant the jeers and abuse?

And why, for the love of God why, was Aaron Ramsey booed? Are you actually booing the player who returned to the Arsenal fold after suffering a double leg break? In that case, why not boo Eduardo as well? Are you booing a player who lost his life-long mentor? Who was stripped of his nation’s captaincy? Who was played out of position at Arsenal? Who was within an inch of joining Manchester United after his parents had gone to Old Trafford first, only to find out that Sir Alex had gone on holiday?

Arsene left him and his parents flight tickets to Switzerland to meet him at the Emirates, and a deal was thrashed out over dinner that night.

Or are you booing Ramsey because he’s actually trying his damndest unlike Eduardo who sadly was left psychologically scarred by that incident at St. Andrews? In that case, you do not deserve to support Arsenal.

And that brings me to Arsene Wenger. He’s tried his best to manage the club with what resources he has, which are limited because of the move to the Emirates. Yet he has managed to deliver us Champions League football season after season after season. We accuse him of not buying, but has he not bought when was absolutely necessary? Has he not stuck with the club despite knowing the constraints moving to the Emirates would bring?

Then why is he barracked so much?

It’s easy to say ‘we want our Arsenal back’. It’s even easier to forget that it is Arsene who has built today’s Arsenal.

As Bill Shankly said,

“If you can’t support us when we lose or draw, don’t support us when we win.”

It is the players who convert draws and losses to wins. Remember that they are also human. They also need to feel reassured, loved and happy.

So get behind them so that they can make us feel the same way.

One of the reasons I often bang on about how a gripping, exciting game, preferably one where the lead changes hands or one or both teams stage unlikely come backs, where controversial decisions change the game, is this. I think they’re important. Now I know football isn’t really important. I understand the part it plays in our lives is peripheral to the make or break decisions which genuinely affect our future, and I see that a hobby, a diversion such as football will always pale into insignificance beside the more momentous and genuinely important aspects of our existence.

Sorry ignore that last pile of horse manure. Of course football is important. We have mortgaged our souls, bet our future happiness on it. But getting back to those kind of games, the ones I described above, this why I think they matter, because they can provide the spark, they can ignite in a young mind the imagination of the football fan and that fire can burn on throughout that young person’s life. I love that football and my crazy passion for Arsenal spins off back into the dank reaches of my past like a lifeline, a rope of memories, joys, miseries, thrills and many many spills which connects this wizened washed up old curmudgeon with his innocent boyhood self.

The draw against Fulham this season was a perfect example. I know we miserable grown ups with our corns, our back aches and our dodgy knees felt a little deflated at the perceived loss of two points. The ecstasy of the last gasp penalty, and the sharing of Mikel’s agony at the miss. But imagine if you can a youngster who, having had Arsenal foisted on them by a parent or having made that all too important random choice to follow the red and white, imagine them watching that match. The wild swings of fortune the moments of brilliance, the errors, the unlikely outcome, six goals,bad decisions, a missed penalty, Giroud’s brilliance, Koscielny’s miracle tackle, cheering, groaning crowds, wildly apoplectic commentators. Imagine the effect of all this on that young impressionable mind. That would be the kind of game he’d be boring his grandchildren about during the 2072 – 73 season. Before money ruined the game, he’d be saying. “And did they all wear funny shorts in those days Grandpa?” the kids would ask him, “Like on the old holo-reels you watch from the turn of the century. Was Carl Jenkinson Captain in that game Grandpa?” “No no, he’d only just started his career. He didn’t become Captain for another five years. You know we won the double three years running with Captain Carl don’t you kids” “Yeah yeah yeah Grandpa we know – you’ve told us enough times”

I was seven when I decided I liked the Arsenal kit. Or the badge. Or Charlie George. I can’t tell you now why I chose them. I know my Dad, a Portsmouth fan always told me that The Arsenal were synonymous with class. He spoke of innovation on and off the pitch, of marble halls, under soil heating and a beautiful stadium. Well for whatever reason I chose keeping a scrapbook of Arsenal newspaper clippings as my project at school that year and we went on to win the double. My formative memories of those early years in my Arsenal supporting career involve the bathroom, a small green plastic transistor radio and Stoke City.

You see as impossible as it may seem the name Stoke City hasn’t always conjured images of Broud from The Clan Of The Cave Bear. In my young life we were permanently playing them in the FA Cup. In the semi final. In a replay. On a school night. There was no internet just the unsurpassed voices of Peter Jones and Bryon Butler fighting to be heard above the roar of the crowd and the crackling static of the medium wave band. I would take the tranny and retire to the only room in the house where I could lock the door and lie there, eyes closed, bubbles quietly popping, water up to my chin picturing the floodlit battle taking place at far away romantic sounding places like Villa Park and Goodison.

Stoke had players to be reckoned with, names every schoolboy knew. Banks in goal, getting on a bit but when he still had both eyes, Jimmy Greenhoff, and um, Peter Dobing. Well, we knew the first two in any event. But we always seemed to beat them in the end even after controversial and drawn first matches, the quality shone through and won through. To be honest little has changed over the years between the two teams. We usually win, they huff and puff but seldom blow our house down, the only thing that has changed for me is that where I used to see them as worthy, difficult opponents to be respected and approached with care, I now see them as the most hated of all premier league teams and the ones I most want to see relegated. To be fair to them they have changed their style a little now. But they haven’t changed their revolting manager and nor do I recall them ever apologising for their Captain and his despicable cowardly assault on one of the flowering talents of British football.

I hope we get a game to inspire the youngsters today. But I’ll tell you what, I don’t hope for a nip and tuck, lead changing hands type inspiration. I want that other kind of inspirational performance. You know the type of thing I mean. The one where we utterly annihilate and devastate a bewildered opponent with fast free-flowing improvisational football and lots and lots of goals.

Of course as it’s the knuckle dragging Neanderthals we play today I’ll be just as happy with a one nil off a Shawcross own goal against the run of play and bugger inspiring the youngsters.

Guest post by Adi (@positivegunner)

So the transfer window filled with ITKs, Exclusives, Airport Sightings, constant reminders of our bank balance and more has finally passed us.

We’ve added one genuinely top quality player to play left back as part of a quality foundation that already exists here. Now, this might not be the position where you thought a player was needed and it certainly wasn’t the first position this author would have strengthened if given the choice (I’d have gone for a CF). This might not be the only signing you thought we needed and you could even feel that if we have the money it should have been spent right away on whoever was available to add to this team for now. There’s a couple of reports from Italy about getting rejected by Fiorentina for Jovetic and plenty about Barcelona refusing to sell Villa, so it looks like we did try for a top quality forward (though some of you don’t like the “we tried” line).

However, we need to be reminded that as much as we’d like, we have zero say in this process and this is finally the decision of the manager. He thinks what he has is enough for now to get the job done between now and May and whether we like it or not, the squad will remain as it stands and no amount of complaining or moaning or lambasting or screaming is going to change that now until May.

So this is it, our team and potential depth for various positions from now until the end of May. Take a good long look at it. It seems thin in some areas, strong in others but has quality and versatility in it capable of getting us the top 4 (especially as we seem to be getting a lot more cohesive and deadly going forward)

Now let me let you in on a little secret. I’m furious and have been for a while. About a signing we missed. I thought we could have used him in the summer and I thought we should have paid beyond our means to get him if that was the stumbling block (other clubs, their own interest in moving is really no issue if you throw money at it)

This is a player, the likes of whom we used to have before, and I wish we had signed. He’s a free agent now, so it still isn’t too late to sign him and he could make a massive difference between now and the end of the season. Who is this you say?

Let me give you some clues while I hold your attention for just a little bit longer.

To narrow down his style, I’ll just say that he’s a fierce defender and truly loves the club.

I believe this kind of player is what we need to help push past and overcome the Jekyll and Hyde act that we do in the two halves where we play the first half fearful and flat and the second half at a level near our true potential.

Besides any big quality signings that you might think we need or didn’t get, this is one player this team needs to push it on to every success even if we sign other world class players.

He has had the reputation of going missing sometimes against weaker teams but he’s the ultimate big match player, delivering his best performances on the biggest stage or against the biggest rivals.

He is loud and usually dependable, and often the one that players turn to when they need inspiration, confidence and self-belief and need to shake themselves out of fear and nervousness.

He can induce fear in the opposition and reduce them to nervous wrecks and has the ability to singlehandedly spark his team to life from the lowest of depths to achieve anything and fight like warriors.

He’s supposed to be so good that he makes people feel like they’re up against an extra man, a 12th man if you will.

A whopping 94% of professional footballers believe that playing with this guy, helps them play miles better.

Wondering who this is if you haven’t figured it out already?

The answer is simple, its Mr.Vocalis Fultus.

Confused? Well you’re supposed to be. This is Latin for vocal supporter.

That’s right, the signing that I hope we’ve made and if not yet, then can still secure is the vocal supporter. The one who makes himself heard in the stadium in full support even when the chips are down at 0-4 like we did against Milan. The very one who resides inside each and every one of us who claim to love this club and support the players in red and white. And this is not just when the team is playing well, but more so when the team is playing with fear and looks completely flat when the extra 12^th man counts for so much more.

Support means a lot of things to a lot of people but I see supporting the team you love as similar to supporting someone you love. When they’re going through a bad patch, you don’t just pound on them and make them feel worthless, you do what you can to help them out of that patch.

Our opinions on matters of ambition, how much money we have to spend and we haven’t spent, why we spent or didn’t spend, can be far and wide and extreme. Our opinions on the quality of players (and whether they’re Invincibles level or not) can differ between shit and world class. Our opinions on the board, Gazidis, Kroenke, Usmanov and Arsene Wenger can range from they’re right and they know to they’re ruining the club. All this is and more can be up for debate, and you have every right to do so.

But what is not up for debate anymore is the fact that now that the January window is over, between now and May, the constant unabated support of every player on the pitch, ranging from Santos to Santi, is needed more than ever. We cannot let our opinions of things that cannot change for the next four months cloud our support for the team or detract from it in any way. We cannot take out our frustrations or anger of any perceived decline since the stadium move out on the players who are on the pitch now. We cannot put the pressure of that frustration onto every misplaced pass, every missed challenge, every scuffed shot and every goal conceded. Now is not the time for that, now is the time to stand up and be counted as a genuine 12^th man.

So what do you say? Can we as fans provide this massive signing that will prove as big a boost to the team starting Saturday against the cavemen? Or do we as fans dither until the summer or the next trophy and refuse to make this one signing that could prove to be the difference towards achieving those goals?

A guest Post by @Wilsheristic that looks at the promise that this team holds.

“This is the Real Arsenal!” This hair-raising statement from the commentator resonated among the fans as we celebrated the showcase of spectacular football during the game against West Ham. Arsenal had showed us all a teaser of the movie we have all been waiting to watch. In those twelve scintillating minutes in the second half, Arsenal unleashed the fury of its wrath. On the press. On the critics. More importantly, on the cynics. Fan ecstasy dominated all around while pessimism crumbled.

The performance against West Ham was exhilarating, but I intend to use it more as a reference point than as a focal point for this post. Arsenal is on the cusp of reaching the light at the end of a tunnel and I do not say this without reason.

Lets first foray into the exhausted topic of player exodus. Arsenal’s colossus, Arsene Wenger, had recently claimed that he had in his hands a near-finished product in 2010 – a team which was on the verge of having the potential to replicate the performances of Arsenal’s best teams and one oozing with class and chemistry. This dream was shattered when the procession started. Regardless of the reason, a lack of loyalty among these exiting players was painful to see. You thought loyalty along the lines of “Other clubs never came into my thoughts once I knew Arsenal wanted to sign me” (Bergkamp) was a thing of the past.

Then came Wenger’s masterstroke: Tying six British players down. Six players from the same nationality contracted to play together for the better part of the next 3 years (at least). The move doesn’t guarantee the fact that all these players are going to end their careers at Arsenal but it does, unquestionably, breed loyalty. The list includes Wilshere, who is destined to be the captain at some point and who will no doubt demand loyalty himself and Jenkinson, who has an Arsenal DNA in the true sense of the word (Take that Fabregas!). Add to this list, Cazorla, Podolski, Giroud and Arteta, the last of whom had taken a massive pay cut to join Arsenal. Think about it, all these players are in the first (2nd for Arteta,Per) years of their contracts and if Newcastle and West Ham games are anything to go by, boy, this team has got some potential! Suddenly, you have got newly contracted players who are saying “When I heard the song the fans made for me, I felt I could die for them” or “I don’t kiss the badge and go to another club. I am here to stay.”

Sure, you might argue that our season with these players hasn’t been the most remarkable. To understand that, you have to consider the aspect of team chemistry. Wenger’s teams have always played well given time to gel (The Fabregas-Nasri-JW connect didn’t develop overnight). Giroud’s defence-dwarfing passes to both Poldi and Gibbs gives you a glimpse of a budding partnership. Poldi’s passing to teammates despite being one-on-one with the GK gives you a glimpse of a budding partnership. Santi congratulating Gervinho for scoring a goal in AFCON gives you a glimpse of a budding partnership. So, be patient. Good times are waiting.

Next, our strike force. Lets make a few things clear. We are the fifth most prolific scorers in Europe this season. We average over 2.2 goals a game. We have scored only one less goal than Manchester United after selling our main striker for £23m. And, we are just getting started. Let’s discard the possibility of a new striker for the meanwhile. People have been quite critical of Giroud until now and he showed them who’s Boss at Brighton and WHU. At least for the meantime. The near miss against Chelsea at home earlier in the season derailed his confidence. He rounded Cech to have an open goal but didn’t hit the target. Happens. But this is a guy who has top scored in his previous two leagues – one of them being Ligue 1 (Fun fact: Only one goal from headers). That his confidence is growing with every game and that he absolutely loves Arsenal fans, can catapult him into a lethal weapon. I think people have read or seen enough of Walcott to form a positive impression on their own. The dark horse here is Podolski. The importance of his partnership with Gibbs was highlighted when the latter was injured which coincided with the our lack of chances going forward and our defense starting to leak goals. Once the partnership was restored, the goals magically started to reappear and the defense presented a better picture. Surely not a coincidence? Podolski contributes immensely to our offense (part of that thanks to Gibbs) and has become the ultimate assist machine. Him and lazy? No thanks. There’s also the small matter of Joel Campbell and Gervinho, who is in roaring form in AFCON.

Imagine adding David Villa to this fold. *Goosebumps*

Our defense and midfield have been examined enough for me to jog past them, although, I would like to highlight a few points along the way. Prior to injuries to Diaby and Gibbs, our team resembled a fortress. Unfortunately, their injuries exposed an area we were found lacking in: “top quality” injury backups. With Ramsey moulding into the new Arteta (Wenger: CDM position is made for Ramsey), Jenkinson excelling as Sagna’s understudy, an impressive Coquelin on the horizon, Rosicky providing cover for Jack and Santi and a new DM imminent, Wenger has hit the nail on the head. Santos has drawn abuses from almost every section of our fans so much so that we have all conveniently forgotten how critical his goal against West Brom was last season. True, he has had a succession of poor games but in no way does that imply that he is inept. If Wenger, the man who orchestrated the Invincibles run, trusts him, so will I, blindly.

Finally, finances. A lot of people have spoken about this and I will try to have a piece of the pie too. It is safe to say that a part of the reason we haven’t exactly splashed the cash over the past few years is the stadium debt. However, if recent bids are anything to go by, we are on the way back. A bid for Hazard valued at  £32 million in the summer and a mysterious  £30 million do give you an impression that we are starting to flex our muscles. Though I am no expert, I wouldn’t be surprised if we are not far away from  £45-60 million bids. That we managed to finish in the top four whilst having a heavy constriction of finances and whilst being burdened by debts, speaks volumes about our manager and his players.

If the midfield trio of Wilshere, Cazorla and Arteta doesn’t breed optimism, I honestly have no idea what will.

I hope I have proffered a convincing insight into our bright future because I, as an ardent supporter, believe we are on the rise. Let’s galvanize the rise. Cynicism (read Piers Morgan) will only serve to pile on the pressure. Let’s cheer the players on their road back to glory instead of booing them on their way to the tunnel.  I will leave you with one of Arsene Wenger’s quotes which, sadly, emphasizes his own situation.

“The biggest things in life have been achieved by people who we would have judged crazy. And yet if they had not had these crazy ideas the world would have been more stupid.” – Arsene Wenger

For those who travel to Arsenal games by canal there is great news, the Department of the Environment have banned water fern, parrot’s feather, floating pennywort, water primrose and Australian swamp stonecrop from these shores. Don’t put your machetes away yet though, these plants are pretty prolific. Only last Sunday Camden looked like a scene from ‘The War of the Worlds’. And several dogs, children and small adults have gone missing whilst walking beside the Serpentine and the lake in St James Park….though the latter might be down to pelicans.

Liverpool next, which is always special and full of memories, like the time I almost got divorced over that bottle opener that came as a ‘gift’ in the season ticket pack a few years back. I am told that a woman can only take so much of, ‘…Thomas its up for grabs nowwww..Thomas..’, every time her worst half opens a bottle of beer, which happens quite often. Either way even now, after my bottle opener was found broken into four pieces in a fish pond four houses away, she goes into an uncontrollable rage at the mere mention of the name Michael Thomas and it has wrecked our relationship with close friends John and Tina Thomas and their son Patrick……..oh and their youngest son,  Michael..

Anyway that was an away game and the last time we played Liverpool, at Anfield (on September 2nd 2012) I remember wishing that I could watch the game in Saint-Denis in Paris, or Aubervilliers to be precise. Not far from the Stade De France. The game would have been screened in any number of bars in the area. There they love their football, particularly games featuring Parisian players and this game starred one of their own, for Aubervilliers is where Vassiriki Abou Diaby was taught to play football.

What a player. The last of the old French guard, Abou has restored my faith in football players. Although I have to say there were many new heroes on display that Sunday and I thought they were all superb. Abou though, has a special place in my heart. I was as enthralled by his display that day as I was in the games preceding the May Day match against Sunderland in 2006. I think it was David Pleat, but I might be wrong, who was waxing lyrical about Arsene’s ability to find ‘another Patrick Vieira’ just minutes before that horrendous Dan Smith tackle. ‘Dan went for the ball, unfortunately Diaby was quicker than him’, was the pathetic response of Kevin Ball. Unfortunately several other Arsenal players proved to be ‘quicker than’ their opponents in the seasons following including Eduardo and Aaron Ramsey, the career of both of whom was adversely affected by horrific leg breaks. The effect on Abou’s career has been palpable and is well documented and painfully followed by me and thousands of other Arsenal supporters.

Abou was imperious at Anfield. The whole team were superb and every one of them deserved a mention, including Olivier Giroud, whose movement was very impressive even then, of course we now know that he is a superb finisher and maker of goals and his ability to head the ball on is second to none. Vito Mannone, Carl Jenkinson, Thomas Vermaelen, Per Mertesacker, Kieran Gibbs, Alex Oxlaide-Chamberlain, Mikel Arteta, Santo Cazorla, Lukas Podolski, Olivier Giroud, Laurent Koscielny, Aaron Ramsey, Andre Santos all stepped up that day. But for me, that Sunday, Abou was back, though not for long as it turned out. The imbalance caused by the leg break leaves him susceptible to muscle injuries, a condition which, I am advised, need not be permanent but requires a huge amount of hard work and patience.

In the event I watched that game in Pimlico, without my passport. Sorry about the passport bit but Pimlico always conjures up images of that film. Never fails. On TV in an apartment near to Tate Britain, that is where I watched the game. After and much later I came upon a fellow from Liverpool sitting on the kerb outside of a Peabody Trust building. He was singing ‘Ferry Cross the Mersey’. I could tell he was lost and looking for Victoria Coach Station, they always are around those parts. I’ve lost count of the number of people who have asked me the way to Victoria Coach Station. They come from all corners of the world, even Liverpool.

‘Where are you heading’ I asked, with a wry smile on my face and feeling generous, as I always do when we win.

‘Home’ he said

‘Where’s that’ I asked, knowingly, fiddling with my long johns which I always wear to watch games even on TV and noting that I had put them on back to front again.

‘Camden…..now fuck off, Gooner’ he replied

I could just hear the strains of ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ fading into the distance as he wandered off into the night weaving his way down the middle of the street to the tube……alone.

I seem to have told this story without mentioning a single Liverpool player, not even S….or G….and I am not going to because this game is about my team. I hope Abou will be playing he is improving by the game and is part of a fabulous group of players who to me look set to achieve greatness. Don’t care where Liverpool are in the table or where we are in the table partly because it is still January but also  because playing Liverpool is always one of those special occasions particularly as they have performed very well in recent fixtures only conceding three goals to Oldham Athletic who are in…errrr…League 1. I think that Liverpool will know they are in a game.

I love going to the football to watch Arsenal.

Frank

Guest post by Matt Windmill (@MattWindmill)

The sense of anticipation building as you catch the train, the odd glimpse of a red and white here and there, the knowing looks and acknowledgement from like minded strangers.

The breeze as you enter the fragrant air of North London, a sea of red, white, yellow and blue as the hustle and Bustle builds.

You can almost taste the nervous excitement as you walk along St. Thomas’ Road, weaving in and out of one way pedestrian traffic, the odd snippet of the same conversation heard, the smell of various international culinary delights filling your nostrils.

The glow of the floodlights of Highbury visible after dusk, like a homing beacon drawing hypnotised souls towards it centre.

The unmovable smile as you catch a first glimpse of 11 heroes in red & white jogging on to the immaculate pitch preparing to play the beautiful game just for you.

OK, OK, you caught me being a bit of an old romantic!

I still remember the first time I made that journey as a young boy, the smile and sense of awe not leaving me throughout, feeling lucky to be part of the greatest tribe in existence.

These days the walk is slightly longer, but no less atmospheric as the crowd assembles, flowing across the bridges to the greatest stadium in Club Football.

The current day is an interesting time, full of transfer tittle-tattle, stories on every medium imaginable of the next great player to pull on an Arsenal shirt, and of the one that got away.

Some of us are even ancient enough to remember when the first you knew of a new signing was the excitement of reading about it in the Evening Standard, I know, hard to believe for the younger generation permanently on the grid.

Loud voices from every angle, Football management experts, telling us who we should sign, mixed with so called ‘in the know’ character’s angling for more follower’s by tweeting the latest name of our next superstar.

Endless debate about what our great manager should be doing, the irony lost on those who think they can do better.

Amidst the madness it got me thinking, when did we forget to just support?

There is a clue in the title for those who are not sure what it means.

Unbridled support – through the good and the bad times, and before the doomer’s start, there have been plenty more good than bad.

Did a whole generation become bored of just supporting?

Are the negative souls amongst us just a reflection of today’s ‘want it all now’ society, or have they simply been spoilt over the last 15-odd years,  becoming so used to the high standards set and maintained by the greatest manager  in our history, that any slight drop is met with a teenage like strop?

You tell me, but in the meantime, if you see a guy walking along St. Thomas’ road with a big grin on his face ignoring all of the surrounding nonsensical conversations about the failings of Ramsey, or the limitations of Djourou, it might well be me, seeking to recreate the simple pleasure of going to see The Arsenal for the very first time.

I know I probably will never to be able to, but believe me I will get pretty damn close and I suggest those of a negative disposition give it a go sometime, you never know, you might even enjoy it.